


This One's For You, Buddy

by hollyblue2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Divergent, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Reflection, anniversary fic, like pure angst, referenced MCD, without Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyblue2/pseuds/hollyblue2
Summary: Dean has a drink to Cas for their anniversary which Castiel never made it to.





	This One's For You, Buddy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is kinda sad, I'm working on an AU anniversary fic too which should be posted tomorrow

**__ **

**_September eighteenth._ **

Dean won’t sleep, he knows it’ll only be plagued with nightmares, sometimes he wonders if they torture him more than Hell did. Seeing his best friend die right in front of him and not be able to do anything about it except kneel in the dirt next to his body and let his heart break.

Dean stumbles out of his room not long after midnight, scrambling through the cupboard for two tumblers and his bottle of scotch. He’s disappointed its half gone already but with the last few months, he’s not surprised. His head is an exhausted mess but he heads back out to the tables in the main room, it’s dark, just lit by the table lamps. The muted glow does nothing for his mood and he sets the glasses and bottle down with a heavier than necessary _thunk_. Spinning the cap off with on hand, Dean sits before pouring himself a glass.

He stares at the other glass. Shoving the lump in his throat away, he moves the other glass towards the opposite chair slightly as if someone were sitting there. Three fingers for Castiel—because he can drink it without a second thought.

Dean lifts his own glass, chinking it against the one on the table, Castiel’s one. “This one’s for you, buddy.”

The Scotch burns harshly at the back of his throat but he takes several sips before resting the glass against his forehead. It’s cool against his skin and it reminds him of too much.

*

_Castiel flits in, almost silently, to find Dean on his bed. Dean takes off his headphones and smiles up at him. “What d’ya know, Cas?”_

_Castiel frowns, “I know a lot of things,” He replies and it makes Dean chuckle._

_“I meant about that case we saw in the paper yesterday, is it a case or just a weird death?”_

_“Oh,” Castiel steps closer before sitting on the bed next to Dean and absently looking at Dean’s little trinkets he’s collected over the past couple of years. It’s not something he ever thought about but found himself doing knowing he could put them on his desk in his bedroom—before the bunker, before he had a home, he lived out of a duffle bag and the Impala’s trunk. “It looks like a salt and burn,” he explains to him._

*

Dean takes another drink, shutting his eyes and letting the tears spill over silently. Castiel kissed him that night before they left. He promptly rejected him and disappeared off with Sam down the highway at breakneck speed. Dean regrets it. He takes another drink. He doesn’t wipe his eyes, that would mean admitting to the fact that he’s upset. He’s not ready for that.

Time wears on, Dean goes through two more drinks before his eyelids are falling shut. He doesn’t dare sleep, he doesn’t want to move, he wants to forget but doesn’t want to forget his best friend, the best friend he loved with so much more than just his heart.

*

_“Hello, Dean,”_

_Dean looks up and grins. “Morning, sunshine,” It’s early morning and as usual Dean’s had his four hours and is up with a coffee and yesterday’s newspaper. Castiel sits next to him with his own coffee. Dean knows he won’t drink it, he just likes the warmth between his fingertips. It’s sweet really, and Dean appreciates Cas’ not so cold hands when they touch him._

_He lowers his newspaper, having already read through it several times and had completed the crossword. Decades on the road, scouring newspapers had him acing crosswords in just a few minutes. After all, they just recycle half the clues._

_Castiel’s warmed through hand, rests over his own and he doesn’t jerk away like he had at the start—instead he accepts the gesture with a smile and lets himself relax into the touch. He wonders if Cas ever does this just to heal Dean of his ongoing injuries or just because he wants to. He should probably ask him one day._

*

Dean silently acknowledges that Sam passes by before coming back into the room with his own glass. He spots Castiel’s untouched glass of scotch on the table that Dean is intently staring at as though Castiel will reappear and drink it down with a huff and declare that he can’t feel anything (not until he’s drunk at least four bottles).

Sam knows how important the day is for Dean. Except this year it comes round like November Second and July Nineteenth. It should be, Dean would never, ever, have guessed it would be like this.

Dean looks up long enough to watch Sam pour himself a glass then chink it against Castiel’s. He downs it in one go before pouring himself another, only to drink this one at a more acceptable pace.

*

_“You’ll always have me.” Castiel had said one night after a rough hunt, leaving Dean bruised and grazed from head to toe. After initially denying Castiel’s healing, he accepts it as they lie in bed, Castiel propped up against the pillows and Dean with the sheets pulled up to his shoulders, turned away from the angel. Slowly, Dean felt a tentative hand reach for his shoulder and surprises himself by turning into it and relishing in the warmth that seeps through him along with the numbness that came with Castiel’s healing._

_He sighs gently, “thanks, Cas.”_

*

Dean misses Castiel. He drags a hand across his face, still a little bruised from a punch to the face in a bar fight while they were on a case. Vampires in the basement, who knew. He wonders when he’ll just knock on the bunker’s door, smile on his face and a _hello dean_ , but he knows that despite the fact Castiel has been brought back multiple times before, he won’t be coming back again.

And it hurts so damn much.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this (if there's anything to like)... let me know in the comments!


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